Hissy Fit
by 27vampyresinhermind
Summary: "You tell me what's got your panties in a twist right now or I will go mix your Tony awards with your Academy awards."  Rachel has a hissy fit, but Noah can't figure out why.  Future!fic a/u-ish drabble with married Puckleberry!


**a/n: Seriously, the muse is on a random drabble freakout or something. I don't know what to do! On the bright side, my prompt list has started dwindling but I can't get her to focus on TTT like she's supposed to do. Jeez, her priorities need adjusting. Oh well. This is kind of a/u I guess, a future!fic, Rachel and Noah are both movie stars and married. Rachel has a small fit. Hope you enjoy and please review! I don't own Glee.**

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><p>He couldn't figure out why she was so mad. Their night had been going just fine until they started to leave the restaurant. The second they were back in the car, she turned the radio up and crossed her arms, glaring through the windshield at the paparazzi still taking pictures outside. Puck was positive that the reason for her sudden anger couldn't be the paps. <em>He<em> was the one that hated those guys. Rachel never had an issue with them. But the last thing they needed was the tabloids starting rumors about them breaking up again. That shit got old really fast.

When he pulled in to their four-car garage and she still hadn't said a word, he silently wondered how much sleep he would lose because of their strict 'no going to bed angry' rule. Rachel didn't even wait for the garage door to close before she was jerking her body out of the car and stomping into the house. This was not good. They both had to be up early in the morning for a television interview promoting their new movie and interviews always went smoother when she wasn't pissed at him.

Puck followed her inside and could hear her throwing her purse down in an obvious hissy fit. Over what, he still didn't have a damn clue. Rachel turned in a huff, purposely stomping right past him with that indignant glare on her face, and walked into their kitchen. Damn, arguments in the kitchen were potentially far more dangerous than the rest of the house…way more sharp and/or heavy objects for her to throw. Wanting to solve whatever the problem was, Puck turned on his heel and followed his wife into the kitchen.

"Okay babe, I give. You were fine in Katsuya until we got outside and suddenly you're pissed at me. What are you so mad about?" Rachel slammed the refrigerator door and took a long pull from her water bottle. Seeing her draining the bottle in one gulp made his mouth dry, but it had nothing to do with thirst. Without answering him, she angrily chucked the bottle into the recycling bin and started walking around the counter to avoid him. Fuck that shit. Puck stepped over to the door and blocked her way out. It was a big house and he really didn't feel like chasing her through it since there probably wouldn't be any shedding of clothing along the way. "Oh no you don't. You tell me what's got your panties in a twist right now or I will go mix your Tony awards with your Academy awards." She gasped in horror, the woman was _very_ OCD about the arrangement of her awards, but still didn't say anything. Puck narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "You wanna talk or should I hide your Oscar while I'm at it?" Rachel released a small growl and attempted to shove him out of the way.

"You know exactly what you did Noah Puckerman and stay away from my awards shelf." Puck raised his arms and grabbed the top of the door-facing to further block any possible escape. Rachel was not amused in the slightest.

"I'm pretty sure I don't have a fucking clue what I did seeing as how _I_ _didn't do anything_!" Rachel scoffed at him and poked him hard in his side to make him move out of her way. She waited until she was walking up the stairs to turn around and yell back at him.

"If you're truly that dense, I'll tell you why I'm so angry. You, _my_ husband, were flirting with that slutty little hostess at the restaurant tonight while I was standing right there! _That's_ why I'm angry Noah! _That's_ what you did!"

Puck paused at the foot of the stairs, desperately trying to remember the hostess she was talking about. He honestly couldn't remember a single thing about the woman except that her voice was as annoying as nails scraping down a chalkboard. Why in the hell would he flirt with that? More importantly, why was his wife convinced that he had flirted with that? Puck ran up to the second level of their home and found Rachel angrily getting undressed in their bedroom. Trying his best to stay focused, he walked over and sat on the bed.

"Babe, I was not flirting with that chick. I don't even remember what she looked like." Rachel released a cynical snort and pulled her fluffy pink robe onto her body. It helped his concentration but he kind of liked her walking around naked.

"You don't remember her? You're really going to sit there and tell me that you don't remember the bottle-blonde tramp that was fifty percent legs and fifty percent silicone? Give me a break Noah. She was all over you when we were leaving the restaurant and you did nothing to stop her advances. Is that the type of girl you're interested in Noah?"

This argument was just getting fucking stupid now. She was mad because some chick, _that he didn't even remember_, had apparently flirted with him and he didn't tell her stop? Bitch might have been fifty percent this and fifty percent that but next to Rachel, she was one hundred percent _invisible_. When your wife is literally one of the most beautiful and talented women on the planet, (seriously, he had the magazine copies to prove it) you don't notice restaurant hostesses. But somehow, said beautiful and talented wife suffered from random bouts of insecurity. Apparently this was one of them.

With an irritated growl, he stood up and snagged Rachel around the waist. She tried to look away but he gently cupped her chin and directed her eyes back to his. "You know what Rachel. I'm fucking looking at the _only_ type of girl that I'm interested in so why don't you lay off the crazy juice for once and accept that." Rachel pursed her lips, looking more petulant than before. Puck leaned down and ran his lips across her bar neck, moving the robe out of the way and continued across her shoulder. "Baby you know I'm yours. But you've got a damn fine and famous husband. There will always be chicks flirting with me." Rachel snorted again but at least this time, there was humor behind it.

"Don't think that you're off the hook just because you can paraphrase 'Rent'." She paused for a second and sighed. "I'm sorry Noah. I know you didn't do anything wrong. It's just infuriating when we go out and I see women fawning over you right in front of me. I mean come on! I don't care if you are an international sex symbol, you're my husband first." Puck grinned and released her just enough to tug the robe from her body so it dropped to the floor. He started unbuttoning his shirt, still loving the way her nipples hardened under his gaze.

"Well, since you're not angry anymore, we should probably go to bed. And of course by 'go to bed', I mean fuck each other senseless until we're both walking funny at that interview in the morning." Rachel laughed and he knew everything was fine again. When she pushed him down on the bed and straddled his lap, he really knew everything was fine.

"Alright Noah, but next time we go to Katsuya, I'm slipping you tongue just so that harlot knows what's mine." Puck just groaned his agreement and pulled her mouth down to his.

She might be crazy sometimes, but she was _his_ crazy all the time.

_**-fin-**_

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please review! Love you guys!**


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